That Extra Excitement
by Hot elf
Summary: She met her fate in "Murder at Vigil's Keep", but what happened before that? Collection of short tales from Morena Amell's past, featuring various pairings: Morena/Anders/Jowan, Morena/Zevran, Morena/Alistair/Zevran. Absolutely rated M for a reason. Enjoy!
1. Playing to an Audience of One

**Playing to an Audience of One**

Anders was rushing up the stairs to their meeting place, taking two steps at a time. Morena hadn't given him a signal, but about half an hour ago he had seen her disappear up the spiral staircase near the library entrance, glancing furtively behind her. The idea of a quick afternoon tryst was exciting. As soon as he decently could, he made his apologies to Wynne who rolled her eyes at his impatience. The old mage had been trying to help him with a spell that had given him trouble, and he was grateful for her assistance. But his enthusiasm for spell-casting was considerably lower than the fascination exerted by Morena Amell.

The two of them had been thick as thieves ever since Morena had come to Kinloch Hold at the age of ten. Now, eight years later, they were more than just friends. Life in the Tower was pretty much incompatible with an exclusive relationship, but even so, she was unique among his many lovers. Not just because of her beauty, though that was undeniable. Her black hair, sparkling dark eyes and dusky skin were a legacy of her Rivaini father. And her slim, yet curvy body was the envy of all the other girls - and the stuff of dreams for many of the apprentices. But it was her personality that held him captive, her determination, her will to prevail among the many limitations of their life.

His heart beat faster at the thought of what he would do once he had her in his arms. The mere thought of kissing her smooth long neck, while his hands made short work of the fastenings of her robe, finding the firm, soft flesh hidden beneath the voluminous folds... He almost skidded around the last corner, then slowed down as he approached a small alcove at the upper end of the staircase. Years ago, he had found out there was a door hidden behind the faded tapestry depicting a mage being collared by a triumphant-looking templar. And once he'd managed to pry the rusty old lock open, he'd been delighted to discover the small room behind it, furnished with nothing more but an old four-poster, a few creaking armchairs and a shelf. It wasn't much, but it was a safe place, and - best of all - it had a small barred window overlooking the lake.

He had expected Morena to sit on the bench near the window and look out at the lake, as she usually did, but instead he came face to face with a wholly different scene. His lover was lying on her back on the bed, her head lolling over the edge, facing him. She was completely naked. A slim, dark-haired young man was propped up on top of her, his narrow hips moving with fluid grace between her thighs. _Jowan._ It took Anders only a moment to recognize the young apprentice. He remembered seeing him around the place in Morena's circle of friends and followers. A rather handsome guy, with clear blue-grey eyes and dark hair and a hint of stubble on his cheeks that made him look older, if a bit tired and world-weary.

Jowan was so caught up he didn't notice Anders right away, but Morena's face lit up when she saw him. Instinctively he backed away, unwilling to disturb them, but before he managed to sneak away she spoke, her voice languid and husky.

"Anders. Don't go away." Jowan's head snapped up, and he blushed furiously at the sight of the other man, but Morena laughed and locked her legs firmly around his hips. "I want you to stay. And watch."

Both men gasped almost simultaneously. While privacy was a rare commodity at Kinloch Hold, most mages and apprentices tried to keep up at least a semblance of discretion about their affairs. If anyone noticed a couple making out in a corner, they would look the other way, find something else to do. Morena's proposal was ... unusual, even by Tower standards.

_And that's precisely why she suggested it_, Anders thought. Morena could never resist that little extra excitement that came with breaking taboos and rules. Though the scene in front of his eyes had an undeniable effect on him as well.

Morena propped herself up on her elbows and tilted her head towards an armchair in the corner offering a full view of the bed. "Over there. But take off your robes first. I want to see you too."

Jowan swallowed visibly. "Morena, I don't think..."

"Don't think. Just close your eyes and enjoy." She must have done _something_ to him because the young mage's face contorted with lust and all protest died on his lips as he resumed his movement.

Anders shrugged out of his robes and settled down on the armchair to watch the two of them, admiring their entwined bodies, imagining himself in Jowan's place. He knew what it would feel like, to be inside her, her heat all around him, her body trembling under his. Morena looked over at him with an appreciative smile at the sight of his erection.

"So... tell me, Anders," she purred. "Is this what you'd like to see? Or would you prefer a different position?"

Both men groaned at her words. Anders answered without thinking. "Let him take you from behind. On all fours."

A shudder went through Jowan's body as he pulled back, allowing Morena to turn around with a graceful wiggle. With a smile at Anders she positioned herself at an angle that allowed him to watch their coupling while she still had a good view of him. Jowan slid back inside her with a single thrust, his face scrunched up in concentration. Morena pushed herself eagerly back into him, moaning when he firmly stroked her round buttocks.

"Now touch yourself, Anders." Her body was rocking under Jowan's long, slow strokes, but her eyes were fixed on Anders' cock. "Any way you like it. Come on. Show me."

He was so worked up by the sight and smell of her, so hard, so eager, that even the touch of his own hand was almost too much to bear. But it was worth it to see how her eyes widened when he stroked along his shaft, once, from the base all the way up to the crown.

"Go on," she breathed. "You're beautiful, Anders. I want to see you come for me."

His hand found a rhythm, almost in time to Jowan's thrusts, moving up and down, alternating between light and strong pressure. But it was the sight of her tongue darting out to lick her lips that did it. Just the thought of her tongue touching him, flicking against him, sent him spiralling off into the most intense orgasm he'd ever achieved by himself. His back arched up, and he felt his seed spurt all over his naked belly, while every nerve in his whole body seemed to burn with an exquisite white-hot agony.

He only realized Jowan had been watching him too, when the other man met his eye and came with a muffled cry, his final thrust sending Morena over the edge as well. She didn't hold back, she screamed her lust with an unrestrained abandonment that was beautiful to watch. And then it was over, and both Morena and Jowan sank down on the bed, breathless and shaking.

"Anders." She stretched out her hand towards him. "Come here. Join us."

He walked over to the bed, still trembling, and lay down next to her. "Morena. You are-"

"Shhhh." With a laugh she pulled them both closer to her body, flanking her. "You talk too much. There are far better uses you could put your tongue to. Both of you."

Anders caught Jowan's gaze and shrugged briefly. They exchanged a quick smile, then the younger man slid down and settled with his head between her legs. "Your wish is our command, my sweet," Anders breathed against Morena's ear. "I think you won't be disappointed."

* * *

_Many, many thanks to my lovely beta, zevgirl._


	2. Show Me

**Show Me**

They had made camp near the ruins of an old watchtower, partway up the slope of a hill overlooking Lake Calenhad. The tents were set up in a small circle around the campfire, with Morrigan's at a little distance from the others, as usual. Morena sighed wearily as she sat down in front of the fire and quickly filled her stomach with the usual stew. It tasted like nothing much at all, but she didn't care. For the past two weeks, ever since they had left Kinloch Hold behind, she hadn't really paid notice to what she was eating, where she was sleeping or who she was talking to. Her usual nightmares of the Archdemon were interspersed with visions of the slaughter in the Tower, of her friends' and teachers' faces contorting into the grimaces of abominations. She was so tired, so horribly tired of it all.

She was stretching and trying to roll the strain out of her neck, when a pair of warm hands settled on her shoulders, and a familiar accented voice sounded close to her ear. "Ah, my Warden, are you feeling tense? I would love to help you relax, you know."

In the normal course of events, Morena would have sent Zevran away with a stern rebuke, but his strong fingers were kneading her hardened muscles so deliciously she couldn't help leaning back into his touch with a small, happy sigh.

"See?" His warm breath brushed against her ear. "Trust me. Let me come to your tent. You'll feel much better once I've given you a... massage."

Morena considered his words for a moment. Oddly enough, she _did_ trust him. Ever since he'd joined them a few weeks ago, shortly after they'd left the Brecilian Forest, he had been loyal and reliable to a fault. Surely he was long past trying to kill her by now. And after all, why not make use of his particular talents...

"All right." She glared at him. "Just a massage, though."

He smiled slyly. "Of course, my dear. As you wish."

She felt Alistair's eyes on the back of her head as Zevran followed her into the tent, and spared a brief thought on how the warrior would react to this. Of course she had noticed his interest in her. The man was as clingy as a vine, always trying to make her laugh with his stupid jokes, always trying to get closer to her. She made a small moue of distaste. Everyone else seemed to see nothing but a big sweet puppy when they looked at him. Not her. She saw the templar he'd almost become. The way he wore his armour, his morning exercise routines, the passages he'd quote from the Chant. Everything screamed _templar _to her. She shivered and was glad when the flap of the tent closed behind her and she was alone with Zevran.

The assassin was very quiet once they were inside. He had grabbed a small vial of almond oil from his pack on the way, and was now straightening her bedroll on the floor, making sure she would be comfortable.

"Come, my dear. Take off your clothes and lie down on your stomach." He sounded calm and collected, no hint of seduction in his tone.

Morena hesitated only for a moment before she slid out of her robe, keeping her smallclothes on and stretching out face down on the bedroll.

He took off his own shirt before he straddled her carefully, and he removed her breastband with quick, economic movements. "Ah, no, cara. This needs to go if I'm to do any good here."

Zevran poured some oil into his hands, warming it before he began to apply it to her soft skin, working his way up and down her back with a firm, sure touch. Morena closed her eyes and relaxed. He knew what he was doing, that much was certain. Soft upward motions, alternating with deeper downward strokes, his hands unerringly finding the knotted muscles and straightening them out. It was sheer bliss. And he didn't speak a single word. _So quiet, so peaceful._

All the pain and soreness disappeared and her body was warm and heavy, as if she were melting into the ground. Zevran was humming softly now, a sweet little tune which made her think of happier times and sent a pleasant vibration all through her. _So good. _So nice to have someone caring for her again. He really had remarkably dexterous hands. And if she was completely honest with herself, her recent testiness wasn't only due to the pressures of being a Warden, but just as much to the lack of opportunities to... work off tensions. _Well, that is easily remedied._

She wiggled a little under him, as if his weight on her back was making her uncomfortable. He immediately took the hint and rose a little, giving her room to move. Quickly, she twisted in his arms, so she was lying on her back, looking up at him. The change of position had let his hands come to rest on her breasts, and Zevran couldn't quite suppress a gasp when he felt her nipples under his palms, hard and eager, the soft skin of her breasts made slippery by the oil.

"Ah, my Warden, you are not an innocent." His voice sounded raw and husky, and his hands began to move, almost of their own accord, stroking softly around her breasts in a figure of eight, then all along her breastbone.

"No," she agreed with a happy, voluptuous sigh. "The Circle wasn't really a place for sweet, blushing virgins. But isn't this what you wanted all the time?"

Zevran paused for a moment and threw his long blond hair back over his shoulders with a graceful gesture. "It would depend... What exactly is it you want from me, Morena?"

She nodded. _Better to sort things out before we progress any further._ "Just pleasure." Raising her hand, she traced the tattoos on his hard chest, all the way down to the fine blond trail of hair on his stomach. "A chance to forget about the bad things for a while. That's all."

He looked at her searchingly for a moment, then he nodded. "Ah. Yes, I believe I can do that for you."

His thumbs circled her nipples and she moaned with pleasure, arching up into his touch. "Are you really as good as you claim?"

Zevran laughed, not at all offended by her question. "There's only one way to find out, no?" The assassin leaned in for a long, slow kiss, savouring her taste, exploring her mouth, before his lips travelled deeper. "I'm going to need your help, though..."

He pushed her breasts close together and let his tongue flick carefully against her nipples, noting with approval how she shivered at the caress. "Is this how you like it? Or would you prefer me to be more tender..." His lips were barely brushing against her skin now, and she made a small, impatient noise. "Or should I be a little... less considerate?" He sucked hard on one nipple for a brief moment, taking in her sharp cry of pleasure with a satisfied grin.

He moved away from her for just an instant to slither out of his pants, then he was back, his naked body flush against hers.

"Show me, my sweet Warden." Zevran was speaking barely above a whisper now.

His hands danced all over her body, mapping out all the places that made her shiver and moan, taking his time, committing all her reactions to memory, occasionally laughing out in sheer joy when he found a particularly sensitive spot. Before long she was burning for him, alive to his touch, yearning for more.

Finally he stretched out on his side next to her, pulling her close to his warmth and curling his body around hers. "Show me."

He took her hand and moved it down between her legs, waiting patiently until she couldn't help but touch herself, his hand on top of hers, following each movement.

"Yes, like this." His voice was like cool silk, his lips soft against her neck.

She almost blushed when she realized what he was doing. But as his hand finally took over on its own, she couldn't believe how gloriously perfect it was, how exactly he'd learned how she liked to be touched. Morena was trembling all over, but still he wouldn't be hurried, even though she felt him hard against her back.

"Zevran, please." She knew she was begging but she didn't care.

He laughed at the urgency in her voice and lay back, allowing her to straddle him, his hands open and motionless at his side. "I'm all yours, my sweet. Do what you will."

Shaking with impatience, she took hold of him and guided him inside her, almost keening with delight at the sensation of his length filling her. Opening her eyes, she found him watching her, his expression one of undisguised enjoyment.

"So beautiful." He reached up to stroke her cheek, chuckling when she turned her head to catch his thumb between her lips and suckled greedily.

His hips bucked up under her, almost involuntarily, and she began to move, in a slow, steady rhythm, drawing out the pleasure of feeling him stroke her insides. All the while she couldn't take her eyes off him. His smooth golden skin, stretched taut over hard muscle, the intricate pattern of his tattoos, the intense look in his half-closed eyes... He remained still and passive right until the very end, when she ground her body against him, begging for release.

Then he moved, quickly and decisively, flipping her over and arranging her long legs around his hips so he could enter her deep. "Look at me!"

He held her gaze as he began to thrust, careful at first until he was sure he had the perfect angle, then faster and faster until she lost all connection to the here and now, letting him take her to some other place, where nothing existed but the pure, perfect pleasure they took from each other's bodies. She didn't even notice she was screaming his name as she came, her nails raking down his back, her hands trying to push him deeper inside her, closer to her core. _So good, oh Maker, so good._

When she came to her senses again, Morena buried her face against Zevran's neck and closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of her feelings. Oh yes, he was really very good. She shivered. She hadn't felt anything like this since... No, it wouldn't do to think about _him_. He was dead and gone. Her life in the Tower was only a distant memory now.

Zevran's voice shook her out of her musings. He had pulled back and was now propped up on his arms above her, admiring her body and her smooth brown skin, even darker than his own.

"You're very dark for a Fereldan." He sounded amused by the discovery.

"I'm not Fereldan," Morena pointed out. "I was born in the Free Marches, in Kirkwall. My father was a merchant from Rivain. He met my mother at a party in her parents' house."

Zevran settled back on his haunches, motioning for her to go on, and she gave him a condensed version of her parents' ill-fated love story. "Her family, the Amells, were rich and important. And she was young, sweet and pretty. They fell in love, but unfortunately he failed to mention he had a wife and family back in Rivain. When she told him she was pregnant, he left immediately."

Zevran nodded, his face neutral, giving nothing away.

"It was a huge scandal." Morena made a face. "My mother refused to give me up. She was stubborn, determined to bring me up on her own. But not even she could stand up to her family when they found out I was a mage."

"So they took you to the Circle." Zevran sounded calm and matter-of-fact.

She breathed a sigh of relief. No pity there, at least. But that was no surprise, really. Messed up as her life had been, it was probably better than what he'd been through, judging from the snippets he'd told her about his childhood.

Morena shook off the unpleasant thoughts and reached out for him again. "No more stories. You promised you'd make me forget."

Her hands moved downwards, finding him already hardening again. She took hold of him and began to stroke him, her hands moving with a subtle twist which made him hiss sharply, his eyes gleaming with lust. "Brasca! Who taught you how to do this?"

Morena smiled. "Well, that's one thing the Tower was good for. You learn a thing or two playing under the tables in the library."

Zevran groaned when she changed her grip, and she laughed triumphantly. She was sure he wouldn't regret this night. And neither would she.

* * *

_Hugs and thanks to zevgirl for my christmas edit!_


	3. Private Lessons

**Private Lessons**

Alistair sank back on the bed with a satisfied sigh, the expression on his face one of utter bliss. "Maker, Morena, that was... fabulous."

His heaving chest was covered with a fine sheen of sweat. Muscles rippled under smooth golden skin as he stretched, and Morena sighed inwardly; her fellow warden was a magnificent sight indeed. A pity he was such an innocent. She would need weeks to teach him even the most basic sexual techniques. Weeks of blushing, hesitating, blundering attempts to please her. _Unless..._ An idea was forming in her head.

"Fabulous," she agreed, propping herself up on top of him to look into his open, guileless face. "But you know what would be even more exciting?"

Alistair frowned for a moment. "What do you mean, more exciting? Are you saying you're not happy with..." He looked very young for a moment, very vulnerable.

"I'm more than happy, my love." Morena smiled and soothingly stroked his hair. "You know I love you. And any girl would be content to have such a fine lover. It's just an idea." He still looked worried, so she hurriedly went on. "Just think what a marvellous time we could have if we asked Zevran to join us for a night or two."

"Zevran?" Alistair pushed her away and sat up, visibly agitated. "Morena, what is the meaning of this? Do you mean to tell me you... regret you're with me now, instead of him?"

Morena bit her lip. Obviously she had hit a sore spot. Alistair had a hard time accepting that she hadn't been quite as virginal as him when they first made love. Though he ought to be grateful, really. The mere thought of what a mess he would have made of that first night without her assistance made her shudder. Still, it was best not to remind him too often that she had a lot more experience in sexual matters than he did. Growing up in the Tower had left her with few illusions and fewer inhibitions. But he didn't need to know that.

He did know about her fling with Zevran, though. The assassin hadn't exactly been discreet. She wondered briefly whether it had been a mistake to invite him into her tent, but then she thought back to the nights spent in his arms, the slow build-up of pleasure, the exquisite dexterity with which he had played her body, and she had to hold back a smile. Beautiful, sinful Zevran. No, she didn't regret him. Not for a moment.

But now Alistair had to be dealt with. Alistair who was the heir to Ferelden's throne and who would help her take down the Archdemon. His Templar training actually might come in handy there, even though the idea of working with one of _them_ still sent shivers down her spine. Morena pushed away the thought. She needed him, so she had to make sure he needed her. Still, there was no reason why the whole affair shouldn't yield at least a modicum of pleasure for her.

"Don't be silly now, love, what's there to regret?" She climbed into his lap, arranging her small, curvy body against his hard, muscled torso. She didn't have to pretend she enjoyed this. He felt good and warm and strong. With a soft purr of pleasure, she closed her dark eyes and rested her head against his shoulder, stroking his chest, adding just the tiniest bit of magic to her caresses. He shivered under her touch.

"You're wonderful and sweet, and all I want is to be with you." Her touch became slowly more insistent. "It's just... Zevran really is a master at making a woman happy, you know. I'm sure with a combination of your stamina and his technique, you'd be ... irresistible." Her voice dropped to a deep, seductive tone as her hand travelled deeper. "I don't think I'd be able to refuse you anything at all, you know."

Alistair's hands, which had been playing with her long black tresses, clenched involuntarily into fists. "Morena..." He blushed as he recalled the noises he had heard from her tent on the nights Zevran had joined her there. The muffled cries, the groans, the long sighs. And the look on Morena's face the day after, the smile of happy satisfaction playing around her full lips. With a groan, he buried his face in her hair.

Morena wiggled closer to him, nibbling on his collarbone. She knew she almost had him. "Come on, sweetheart. What's the harm in trying? I think you might enjoy this more than you think."

Her hands grazed down his stomach while her teeth scraped sharply against his skin. He flinched in pain, but then her clever fingers closed around his hardness and his head fell back with a sigh.

"All right, Morena. But you have to be the one... to ask him... to join us." His voice sounded strange to him, hoarse, strangled, uttering words he'd never expected to say.

"Don't worry." She hid her triumphant smile against his chest as she straddled him. "I'll talk to him in the morning. I'm sure he'll be thrilled."

* * *

Predictably, Zevran didn't need much persuasion, though he seemed amused by the idea of tutoring Alistair. He liked Morena. She was clever and inventive and unscrupulous - qualities he appreciated. And she'd never pretended to regard him as anything more than a passing diversion, so it didn't occur to him to be anything but flattered by her offer. Still, he had to admit he was slightly sceptical regarding Alistair's participation in this.

It was lucky they still had several nights at Redcliffe castle. Morena's plan would have been nearly impossible to pull off in camp. Here, however, she had the luxury of a large, private bedchamber. And the enticing prospect of two well-rested, freshly bathed and groomed men focussing solely on her pleasure. She could hardly wait until night fell and they retired to their rooms.

Alistair joined her almost immediately. There was no need to make a secret of his visits to her room. Arl Eamon knew they were a couple, and he didn't seem to mind, not since she had made it clear she wasn't interested in marrying Alistair and endangering his candidacy for the throne. The Arl had sown quite a few wild oats in his own youth, and was only too willing to let Maric's son enjoy the same privilege.

Morena had already undressed and put on a short linen nightgown adorned with lace. With Arlessa Isolde gone, bled out on the stone floor in the ritual that saved her son from the demon, the grieving Arl had given Morena permission to go through her possessions. She had gratefully taken advantage of the offer and had chosen several pretty dresses, as well as an assortment of toiletries and scented soaps - fine Orlesian luxuries the likes of which she had never owned before.

The thin white fabric of the gown set off Morena's dark skin and clung to her curves. Alistair swallowed hard when she beckoned him to join her on the bed and motioned for him to pull off his shirt, leaving him only in his breeches. When she kissed him tenderly, he relaxed for a moment, but he nearly jumped when a curtain near the window moved, revealing the slim figure of the assassin.

"Damn it, Zevran, there's no need to be quite so stealthy!" Alistair knew he sounded too loud, too aggressive, but Zevran just smiled.

"My apologies, _bell'uomo_. I thought it... advisable that no one else learnt of our little adventure." His rich, sensuous voice added an additional layer of suggestiveness to his words.

Zevran moved closer to the bed, undoing his belt as he advanced and putting his daggers carefully down on a little chest of drawers. His gaze travelled unabashedly over Alistair's naked chest and stomach, making the warrior blush.

"Ah, but this is a pleasant sight indeed." Zevran's gesture took them both in. "I think I should return the favour, don't you think?"

With a lithe, sinuous movement he shrugged off his shirt, exposing his naked torso to their eyes. Morena's eyes widened in delight, even though she had seen it all before. But he looked even more beautiful in the soft candlelight that made his skin shimmer like burnished gold and the lines of his tattoos come alive in undulating patters across his lean muscles.

Alistair had spent all day worrying about whether he would be able to share Morena's affections. But he wasn't prepared for the wholly unfamiliar feelings that assailed him at the sight of the assassin's magnificent body. His cheeks flushed in confusion and he had to fight the urge to flee, to leave all this behind him and head for the safety of his room.

Morena must have sensed his panic, for she put a soothing hand on his naked chest and pulled him down with her on the soft sheets. "Shhhh, my love. Everything will be fine. Just relax."

She exchanged a quick glance with Zevran, and he nodded briefly before joining them on the bed, taking care to place himself so that Morena was lying between the two men, creating a safe distance for Alistair that visibly calmed him. For a moment they remained still, as if they were waiting for some unspoken signal. Then Morena sighed and pulled Zevran down into a kiss, her hand taking Alistair's and pressing it firmly in reassurance.

Alistair watched, still shaking with insecurity, but with growing fascination, as the assassin nipped gently at her lips, teasing her with the merest hint of tongue until she was moaning impatiently, then let his hand trail along her jaw as he deepened the kiss, drawing it out until he finally pulled back with a last playful tug at her lower lip. Morena looked flushed and dreamy, and when she turned her face up to Alistair, he plucked up his courage and began to mimic what he had just seen, playing with her, using his lips and teeth and tongue in ways that simply hadn't occurred to him before.

Morena arched up into his hands with a shaky sigh, and he began to tug impatiently at her nightgown, when he felt a warm but firm grip on his wrist. Surprised, he realized Zevran had taken hold of him.

"Tch, so impatient." The assassin's golden eyes were full of amusement, but warm and friendly. Torn between embarrassment and curiosity, Alistair raised a questioning eyebrow.

"We have plenty of time, my friend." Zevran took his hand and placed it on Morena's hips. "No need to hurry with the undressing."

Morena's sighs turned into small whimpers as Zevran's full lips made their way down her throat, trailing along the neckline of the nightgown, then further down to her still covered breasts. With a brief glance at Alistair, he bowed down and took her nipple between his lips, sucking hard through the linen. Morena cried out, her hand tangling in his long blond hair, and he grinned smugly, motioning for Alistair to take care of her other breast. Alistair hesitated, realizing the position would bring their heads side by side, but when he watched Morena's reaction to Zevran's nibbling and suckling, when he saw her nipple harden, the dark outline clearly visible through the soaked fabric, he couldn't resist. Once again, he followed the assassin's lead, watching, learning, trying to find the right rhythm.

Morena was moaning loudly now, grabbing their heads each with one hand, writhing under their combined caresses. Her movement pushed the two of them closer together, Alistair's stubbly cheek grazing Zevran's sensitive ears, which made the elf shudder with pleasure. Zevran's nimble fingers got busy untying the fastenings of her nightgown, pushing aside the soft cloth and giving them full access to her beautiful body.

He pulled Alistair back and ruffled his hair almost tenderly, ignoring the renewed blush his action caused. "Watch, _carissimo_, watch her face."

And he bowed down to plant small kisses and bites all over Morena's stomach and chest, keeping an eye on her reactions at all times.

"Look at her and learn. See how she bites her lip when I do this?" He demonstrated again, a quick brushing of his lips over her hips. "And how she arches up when I touch her here?" The assassin's hand was wandering up her thighs now, at a slow unhurried pace.

"Take your time. All over her body, you will find places that make her squirm, that will make her moan. Yes, like this." Zevran took Alistair's hand and guided it to Morena's other leg, trailing up from the ankle to the knee and further.

"And when you finally reach your goal..." Zevran's hand dipped between Morena's legs for the briefest of moments, but his touch made her cry out and her hips buck up. "You will find she is already impatient for your touch, wet and hot and ready."

Zevran grinned and, to Alistair's shocked surprise, put his glistening index finger to the other man's lips. Alistair hesitated for a moment, but then the scent of her arousal overrode his concerns and he opened his lips, sucking in Zevran's finger, licking it hungrily. The assassin hissed with pleasure, his eyes darkening.

"You are a quick learner. Maybe it's time the two of us got a little more comfortable, no?" Putting a soothing hand on Morena's trembling thigh, Zevran slipped out of his breeches. Alistair couldn't resist looking, though his cheeks flamed when his eyes wandered down to Zevran's crotch. _He's well endowed for an elf, but hardly bigger than I am. _The thought was automatic and he blushed even deeper, silently berating himself for such adolescent posturing.

Zevran seemed to read his thoughts and grinned. "Well?"

Alistair closed his eyes and quickly took off his own pants. It was easier than he had expected, and it was true he was much more comfortable freed of the increasingly constricting material. Zevran's smile remained warm and reassuring.

"Much better. Now, _carissimo_, if you really want to make your woman happy, there is one art you should study above all others." He slid down to the foot of the bed, motioning for Alistair to follow him. Running his hands up Morena's thighs again, Zevran parted them with a gentle but insistent touch, spreading her wide for them. Alistair gasped when the meaning of the elf's words sunk in.

"Come here. Watch me closely." Zevran took care to position his head in such a way that Alistair had a good view of what he was doing. And while his tongue and lips were doing things to Morena that had her clench her hands into the bed linen and scrabble her feet against the mattress, he somehow managed to keep up a constant commentary in his soft, sensuous voice. He detailed the perfect spots to touch and the ones to avoid until the last moment, pointed out minute reactions and shudders, demonstrated nibbles and licks and small bites until Alistair's head was spinning and he was so far past blushing he couldn't even remember how to do so.

Finally, Zevran pulled back and gracefully moved up the bed, behind Morena's back. Kissing her softly, he sat her between his legs, propping her up against his chest. He took hold of her knees and spread her slowly, invitingly, offering her to Alistair like a special present.

"She's yours now." His voice was dark and raspy, and Alistair couldn't have held back to save his life.

With a sigh, he slid inside Morena's waiting body, feeling her tremble as he entered her deep. She leaned back against Zevran, caught up between their bodies, and there was no mistaking the look of utter bliss on her face.

"Maker, _Alistair_!" Her hips came up to meet him and she moaned almost desperately.

He began to move, but he had to stop almost immediately. Violent shudders racked his body and he feared he would ruin it all by spending himself too early. Almost without thinking, he threw an imploring gaze at Zevran. The assassin gripped Morena's hips hard, making her hold still for a moment, giving Alistair a chance to recover. Then he carefully rearranged their bodies.

Following his instructions, Alistair lay back. Zevran gently positioned Morena on top of him and pushed her down onto his hard member with excruciating slowness.

Kneeling down behind Morena, Zevran took hold of her hips again and began to set a careful pace, laughing at her impatient huffs. "Ah, _carissima_, take your time. Good things come to those who wait, no?"

Alistair bit his lip to keep his focus. Nothing else counted but the feel of Morena's body around him, the delicious friction of her wet walls, the sweet noises she was making. Zevran increased the tempo, and he couldn't take his eyes off Morena's face. She was close, so close, but he was almost certain he couldn't bear it much longer. And then Zevran took his hand and moved it right between her legs, pressing down insistently. With a hoarse scream, Morena came, arching up into his hand, so beautiful in her unbridled lust that it was too much to bear. His own orgasm hit him with such force he almost passed out for a moment.

When he opened his eyes again, Zevran had already pulled Morena off him, pushing her down into the cushions and taking her with a raw greed that clearly showed how much effort it had cost him to wait his turn. The pair of them were right next to Alistair, not a finger's width between them and him. Abandoning his scruples, he ran his hands over both their bodies, finally allowing himself to touch Zevran, to feel hard muscles under silky skin. It was over far too soon, and he quickly withdrew his hand, but Zevran just smiled and slithered gracefully between their bodies, obviously enjoying the physical contact even after he had been so thoroughly sated.

Morena laughed drowsily and pushed a golden strand of hair from his forehead. "Zev. Thank you."

The assassin smiled. "It was my pleasure, my dear. And I believe the two of you should now be able to put the lesson into practice without my help, don't you think?"

He slid off the bed and reached for his clothes. For a moment Alistair was gripped by an impulse to hold him back, to ask him to stay. The idea was tempting, an enticing promise of further pleasures he could only dimly guess at.

But in the end his sense of propriety won out, and he settled back with a sigh, while Zevran slid out of the room. Morena nestled contentedly in his arms, looking happy and sated. It was easy to tell himself that this night had been nothing but a favour for her.

* * *

_Many thanks to zevgirl for her help and advice._


End file.
